


growing pains

by cranes



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Animorphs Secret Santa, Gen, Post-War, ass2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 23:17:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5559482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranes/pseuds/cranes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ax was nine when Elfangor first taught him how to morph.</p>
            </blockquote>





	growing pains

**Author's Note:**

> Secret Santa gift for postcambrian! Prompts were 1.) Ax and Elfangor. 2.) Anything centred around Ax, Elfangor and their parents (all four characters together). 3.) Parents losing their children. Sorry it's so late!

Ax thinks, in the end, war is more waiting than anything.

Jake’s sitting on the ledge of an abandoned swimming pool, his legs dangling into the cracked tiles. Most of it’s rubble; there’s a handful of crumbling leaves listing across the bottom, a lot of dust and dirt and broken cement. Cassie left a few hours ago to help deal with the surviving Taxxons. Tobias flew off the instant the ship touched down.

Marco has, in Jake’s words, a ‘whole lot of confusing shit to deal with, Ax’. He and his parents are currently waiting at another stop point for Nora to be released.

And Ax _—_ Ax _technically_ has a lot of ‘shit’ of his own to deal with. Being named _Prince_ comes with a lot of responsibilities, a lot of tedious technicalities. But here he is, standing awkwardly beside his former prince at the edge of a forgotten human swimming pool.

To his embarrassment, he’s not the only one to recognize the futility of his presence.

“Don’t tell me you have nothing better to do than hang out with me, Ax.”

Ax startles, catches himself. (You wish me to go?) he asks, glancing at Jake.

Jake stares out into the swimming pool, into nothing, his eyebrows knitted, his lips drawn tight. “You don’t have to stay,” he says quietly.

Ax straightens. He follows Jake’s gaze. (If you wish me to go, I will go. Otherwise, I… have nothing better to do.)

It’s not a lie. With the others gone, Ax thinks that _—_ in spite of all the duties, all the things to be done and issues to be discussed _—_ the most important place for him to be right now is right here. An Andalite’s first duty is to his prince, after all. Emotionally shattered or not.

In one hour, Jake’s parents are to be released.

Jake continues to stare at the swimming pool. “You see your parents yet, Ax?”

Ax shifts uncomfortably. (No.)

“What do you think they’ll say?”

(I… don’t understand.)

Jake’s eyes reflect harshly in the sun. “When you see them, I mean. You, just you. No Elfangor. What do you think they’ll say?”

(Prince Jake…)

“Andalite custom, right? You were supposed to kill Visser Three. But you didn’t. After all is said and done, you didn’t accomplish what you set out to do. This whole war, you only ever wanted one thing. But all those people you killed, Ax. All those people, and you couldn’t kill the one who mattered most.”

The initial shock is past, the faint hurt is scabbed over with understanding. Ax puts his hand on Jake’s shoulder _—_ a human gesture.

(All those people you saved, Jake, and you couldn’t save the one who mattered most.)

Jake jerks suddenly and in an instant he is, impossibly, on the verge of tears. But they don’t fall _—_ though they glisten and waver they don’t leave the hazel of Jake’s eyes. Jake continues to stare out at the swimming pool.

“How are you going to tell them, Ax? How are you going to tell them you failed? How are you going to tell them their _son_ is dead and it’s all your _—_ ”

Then, abruptly, he stops, and for a long moment Jake Berenson, President of Earth, just shakes.

* * *

Ax was nine when Elfangor first taught him how to morph.

It was supposed to be a secret, of course. No one was _supposed_ to have access to the morphing technology unless they were a formal member of the military. And Ax’s academy enrollment exam was still two years away.

But early frost was dusting the grass like stardust, and Elfangor was home from war.

Ax remembers looking up at his brother _—_ way, way up; Father always wondered how Aximili could be so small when Elfangor was so big _—_ and catching Elfangor’s eyes with a skip in his hearts. Elfangor’s eyes were always so veiled. Not even the Princes could read them.

But for a moment, Ax caught a glimmer of amusement flicker in them as Elfangor held out a small blue cube.

(This is an _E_ _scafil_ device, Aximili.)

Ax remembers drawing a sharp breath, the air catching like ice in his lungs. (Elfangor, I _—_ if Father finds out…)

(So you don’t want to morph, little brother?) That deep chuckle, warm and rough, tingling the edge of his senses. Ax looked at the small box in his brother’s hands, felt his own begin to tremble minutely.

People morphed because they wanted to change something about themselves, Elfangor always said. Their eyesight, perhaps, for spying. Their appearance, to blend in. Their size, to fit into small spaces no Yeerk would ever look. But Ax didn’t really want to change any of those things.

Slowly, determinedly, Ax met his brother’s eyes. Reached for the cube.

 _This is what Elfangor would do,_ he thought, as the muted shock spilled into the tips of his fingers. _If I were him, I would accept this without hesitation._

There was nothing Ax wanted to be more than his older brother.

* * *

Of course, secrets can only be kept when one’s little brother has _any_ control over his inadequate genes _—_ in particular, a pair of ridiculously expressive eyes, a guilty conscience, and an _incredible_ inability to lie even _remotely_ well.

(Aximili, look at me.)

Their father’s voice was stern, hard like tundra soil. For a moment, Ax couldn’t breathe, let alone move. Then Elfangor’s strong hand was resting on his shoulder, firm in its protectiveness. Ax choked on the sudden rush of air returning to his lungs.

(Father, Aximili is not at fault. It was I who introduced him to the _Escafil_ device.)

( _Y_ _ou_ , I will deal with later,) Father said with a glare, as if Elfangor didn’t tower over him by _miles._

Elfangor nodded respectfully. Ax felt a chill as Elfangor’s supportive hand vacated his shoulder, replaced almost immediately by mild panic.

(Father, I _—_ )

(Aximili-kala.) Father’s eyes remained narrow. (Please explain why you chose to engage in this illegal activity.)

Ax clenched his fists at his sides, finding he was unable to maintain his father’s gaze. (Father, I’m sorry. I wanted to…) He looked at Elfangor.

Elfangor would take the blame without a moment’s thought. This, Ax knew, like he knew Elfangor would tease him forever if he ended up doing chores for Mother all next week. Funny how both selflessness and bullying so peacefully coincided in his older brother. Funny how a hero and a brother could be one person.

(Father, I have no explanation for my actions. I will take whatever discipline you see fit,) Ax said, lifting his chin. Beside him, he could feel his brother smiling.

* * *

That night it rained, and Aximili watched the droplets fall onto the dewy grass outside their family’s scoop well into the morning.

As the sun first began to form on the horizon, Elfangor came to him.

(Aximili, you did a brave thing last night.)

Ax snorted. (Brave? I’m grounded for three weeks, Elfangor.)

(Father could have reported you to Finhal. You would have never made it to the academy if he did that.) Elfangor came to stand beside Ax, and as always his presence was like a heavy cloak in the dead of night, warm on Ax’s back. (But you took responsibility anyway. You will be a fine soldier one day, little brother.)

A soldier. Ax looked down at his hooves, wrapping his arms around himself to muffle his shivers. (But I’m not brave at all) he whispered; then, desperately, futilely begged with all his hearts he could take the words back. How pathetic they sounded out loud.

But Elfangor just laughed, clapping Ax’s shoulder lightly. (Aximili, you morphed! You haven’t even been to the academy yet and you morphed! Do you know how long it took me to morph for the first time? I was terrified! Don’t let anyone tell you that you are not brave, little brother.)

Ax’s fists clenched. (I was _not_ brave! I morphed because I was _afraid_ , alright? Because I was afraid of _—_ ) _Of being less than you. Of not living up to your name. Of existing in your shadow, always and forever._ Aximili drew a breath, let his hands fall at his sides. Closed his eyes. (You are so strong, Elfangor,) Ax murmured. (I just… wanted to be like _you_ for once in my life.)

Ax looked away, expecting disappointment in his brother’s eyes. But suddenly Elfangor had lowered himself in front of Aximili, and his fingers were brushing across his chin. Reluctantly, Ax met his brother’s gaze.

(I was terrified, Aximili,) Elfangor told him gently. (The first time I morphed, I was so scared I nearly couldn’t move. I was an _aristh_ on a Dome Ship, and we had all acquired _Kafiit_ birds, and we were to morph together. But I couldn’t concentrate. I wanted so much to not look like a coward in front of my peers, but I was so terribly frightened I couldn’t morph for the life of me.) Elfangor stepped back and let out a sigh. (There is something in you that I lack, little brother; a bravery, a stubborn determination I could never achieve. That is something that will always set you apart from me, no matter what happens.) Ax looked up at Elfangor, and Elfangor smiled wistfully. (Always be you, Aximili.) Then, in a quieter voice: (Never be me.)

* * *

_(Hey, Elfangor?)_

_(Yes, Aximili?)_

_(Go burn some slugs.)_

* * *

_No. No, no!_

“He died protecting us,” the alien boy was saying, but Ax did not hear him. A loud pressure had built up in his ears and the beating of his hearts drowned out all else. One thought remained in the ringing silence: _Elfangor is dead._

(My brother was a great warrior,) Ax managed finally, willing his voice not to shake. (His cousins loved him. His enemies feared him. No more can be said of any Andalite warrior.)

But more _should_ be said. More _had_ to be said. What about the first thunderstorm Elfangor spent home, and how he ran his hands between Aximili’s stalk eyes to soothe Ax’s trembling? What about all those bullies at the academy, and how they fled the moment Elfangor appeared in Ax’s defense? What about the secrets and white lies shared, what about the laughter, what about the quiet moments watching the stars come out and paint the night sky?

But all the words clanging in Ax’s head became silent, as the alien boy lifted his head and said with complete understanding: _“I’ve lost a brother, too._ ”

* * *

(Tell me about Tom,) Ax says, to the quiet of the still air.

It’s been ten minutes of dead silence, and Jake’s voice, when he speaks, is bitter. “You met him.”

(No,) Ax says slowly. He’s struck, suddenly, by the truth of his words. (I did not.)

He reaches out; hesitates. Then he’s gently resting his hand on Jake’s arm, saying nothing else.

There’s another long silence before Jake speaks again.

“He taught me how to shoot,” Jake says softly.

(A weapon?)

“No, a basketball. I was having trouble in gym class, so Tom took me outside after supper one night and drilled me pretty much to death. Said I was too big to suck so bad at basketball. It was the only time he ever admitted I wasn’t a midget.” Jake closes his eyes; opens them, looking up at the sky. “I was taller than him when he died, did you notice that? When this war started, he had a good few inches on me. I never really noticed: I outgrew him awhile ago. Dad always said that I would and Tom would say _—_ ” Jake’s voices breaks. _Finally,_ Ax thinks, even as his own hearts ache at the sound. “Tom would say the day I grew taller than him would be the day the universe ended.”

(They will miss him,) Ax says quietly. Another truth, heavy with the weight of their impact. Even now, the memory of his father’s face upon learning of Elfangor’s death is a stinging hurt in the back of his mind. _Is your brother there, Aximili-kala?_

Beside him, Jake lets out a hollow little laugh.

 _"God_ , Ax. How am I going to tell them?”

(Prince Jake...)

Ax thinks about brothers, and how they hurt you, and tease you, and the nicknames they create and how they will never, ever let you fall.

He looks at Jake. Smiles.

(I don’t know, Prince Jake. But…) His hand slides down Jake’s arm, to encircle his prince’s wrist with a firmness his fingers have never before carried. He releases it with a final pressure. (...You will not do it alone.)

Together, they look out at the fading sun, and wait.

* * *

_fin_


End file.
